


In The Light of Darkness

by ariquitecontrary (ItsAriyanna)



Category: Damien (TV), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Antichrist, Dark Character, Fluff, M/M, Reincarnation, dark!damien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-30 01:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6403438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAriyanna/pseuds/ariquitecontrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Damien Thorn. The name itself sounded so dangerous and dark, it left Merlin’s skin crawling, but at the same time it pulled him in in a way that he couldn’t explain."</p><p> </p><p>Centuries have passed and everyone's come back, everyone except Arthur. Merlin's all but given up on ever having him back in his life. Of course that's when Arthur decides to come back and of course, he couldn't make it easy it. Of course he doesn't remember anything and of course, he goes by a different name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WOO! My first crossover fic. Sorry for any mistakes there may be! Hope you enjoy it. :)

Merlin’s traveled the Earth alone for what seems like millions of years. He’s watched empires fall and cities rise. He’s seen countless rulers die and he’s even dined with a few presidents. He’s met the most beautiful of women and the most ugly of men. He’s seen it all and more yet, even when he was surrounded by the thousands among thousands at Woodstock, he’s always felt alone. 

That’s not to say that he’s spent all of his life as some celibate monk, of course he hasn’t, but he’s never allowed himself to feel or to love. That shipped sailed a long time ago, taking with it the person who held his whole heart. 

He can remember the promise; that the once and future king would rise again when Camelot’s greatest threat was upon them. But it had been centuries and Camelot had fallen and withered away, only a myth among fictional stories now, and Arthur never returned. 

Merlin hated thinking of his name. It left this hollow and empty hole inside of his chest and it made him hate himself. He hated himself because although he could remember the name perfectly, he couldn’t see the face it went with anymore. 

He couldn’t remember what color his King’s eyes were. Had they been blue like the oceans or green like the leaves in spring? His hair, it was blonde wasn’t it? Or perhaps it had been a very light shade of brown? Was he shorter or taller than Merlin? Or had they been the same height? He tries everyday to remember these things about him, but he can never quite paint the perfect picture.

He’s in the twenty-first century now, and they have these things called cameras. Merlin wishes, with everything inside of him, that they had those around when he truly needed them. There have been paintings and such, of what people believed King Arthur to look like, but they’re never right. Sometimes Merlin wishes he could paint them himself, but he knows that he’ll never be able to get it right either, not now. 

“A storm is brewing,” the old man sitting next to him on the bus says out of nowhere and Merlin looks out the window. 

The clouds are dark and angry, and sure enough, a crack of thunder rings out and he flinches slightly when it gets to his ears. He’s always enjoyed the storms and lightening and thunder. They bring a sort of calming to him and he loves to listen to the rain hit the windows of his apartment. 

“Hope you brought your umbrella.” 

Before Merlin can answer or even process the words, the man is up and out of his seat, ready to get off at his stop.

He still has three more stops before he reaches his apartment complex that he shares with Gwen. 

Sometimes he finds it funny. He’s always met up with everyone else from his life in Camelot. He met Gwaine, when he was a soldier fighting in the Roman Empire. He’d seen Lance as a general in the Revolution, Leon as a member of the Secret Service; he’d seen them all yet, he’d never seen Arthur. He had asked the others, and every time they said the same thing. There was no Arthur.

He’d try over and over again not to be discouraged, but you could only be disappointed so many times before giving up felt like the only option. 

 

When he finally reaches his flat, he’s hit with the smell of Gwen’s cooking. He loves the fact that she’d taken culinary classes over the year, because it always meant that she’d test out some new recipes for Merlin to try. 

He tossed his jacket onto the coat hanger, knowing that anything else would earn him a scolding, and made his way into the small kitchen. 

“Smells good,” he greeted as he walked over and placed a kiss on Gwen’s head. She giggled softly and nudged him with her hip. 

“Thanks, it’s a vegetable and steak stir fry; just something simple for tonight.” She reaches over to toss some broccoli into the pan and Merlin backs up to give her space. “How was your day?”

He shrugs. “Alright. Harrison was being a complete dick, but he’s letting me have Friday off so there’s that.” 

Merlin works at a photography agency and while he’s just the personal assistant, he often finds himself doing more work than the actual photographers. It’s annoying, but it’s money. He’d probably love it a lot more if his boss wasn’t some huge asshole who had it out for him, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

“That’s good! Morgana was really looking forward to you being at the art show.” 

Merlin just nods in acknowledgement. He loves Morgana, but he can’t help the pang of sadness he feels every time he’s around her. Just her name brings back a flood of hazy memories with Arthur that he’s not sure he wants to think about. 

“Merlin, you okay?” Gwen asks with a frown as she sets down her stirring spoon.

“I’m good,” Merlin replies with what he hopes looks like a convincing smile. “Need me to set the table?”

Gwen gives him a sad look, probably understanding the reason for his sudden mood change, but nods anyways. 

With a shake of his head and a sigh, he pushes all his thoughts to the back of his head and gets ready for dinner. 

 

“What about Christopher? He seems nice!” 

Merlin groans at Gwen’s words and places his head into his hands as he tries to block out her ridiculous matchmaking plans.

“Or Max! He’s hot.”

“Yes, Guinevere, he is.” Her eyes light up at his words and Merlin snorts. “But did you forget he just got out of jail?”

“For what?” She questions. “Maybe we can overlook it!”

“Aggravated Assault with a Deadly Weapon.” He deadpans. 

Gwen’s face pales instantly and she sighs. “Okay, definitely not Max then, but what about Chris? He’s sweet.” 

She pouts at him and Merlin just gives her a soft smile. Chris is sweet, and definitely a looker, and Merlin’s sure that in any other life he’d probably be jumping at the chance to date him, but not now. Sometimes he hates Arthur; hates him for leaving Merlin all alone and heartbroken with absolutely no chance of moving on. 

“Merlin, you can’t sit around and wait forever.” 

It’s something he’s heard over and over again and he knows that it’s true, but he can’t bring himself to actually listen to the words. He’s tried, believe him he’s tried, to move on and find love with some great guy, but he never can. There’s always something wrong with them (or actually with him), and nothing ever last pasts a couple of weeks. 

“He’s not coming back.”

Gwen’s words are like a slap in the face and Merlin hates himself for the tears that prick his eyes. It’s not as if he doesn’t already know that. If Arthur were coming back, he’d be here by now; he’d have shown up once over the hundreds of years that Merlin’s waited, but he never did. 

“You know that, don’t you?” Her words are soft and careful as if she’s speaking to a child and all he can do is nod. 

“Yeah,” he whispers so quietly he can barely hear it himself. 

Gwen looks pained, as if she wants to say more, but she chooses to stay quiet. 

They sit in silence for a bit, watching some reality TV show, before Merlin finally gets up and stretches. 

“I’m gonna head to bed, we have to be up early tomorrow to meet Morgana.” 

Gwen gives him a wary look but nods. “Alright, goodnight, Merlin.” 

He bids her goodnight and then makes his way to his room. His bed is rather large and most nights he loves it, but as he lays down on it now, he finds himself hating it. There’s too much space, too much room on it, and it only makes the hole in his heart grow larger. 

Sometimes he tries to remember what it was like when he had Arthur, when he felt whole and complete. It’s incredible how one person can have so much power over another’s feelings. He wishes he could turn off all his emotions so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain and emptiness he feels everyday of his life. How could so many people dream of falling in love, he often wondered, when it made you feel this terrible? 

He turned on his side and stared out of the widow. He couldn’t see much from this angle, but he could see the sky and the stars. Morgana had often told him about shooting stars and how you were supposed to make wishes upon them. 

He’d seen about five shooting stars in his lifetime and he always wished for the same thing. 

But nothing ever changed; Arthur never came back to him. 

 

Merlin’s been to enough art galleries in the past few years to know not to wear white by now. It never fails; he always ends up spilling some fancy wine on himself for some ungodly reason. So this year he settles on a black button up and black pants. Gwen groans when she sees his choice and tells him how he needs more color in his life, but Morgana simply whistles and tells him he has he whole “sexy and dangerous” vibe going on. 

Girls are weird, he decides. 

The art gallery is nice like always, and he has fun mingling with Morgana’s friends. He’s in the middle of catching up with Florence, a bubbly short girl with silver hair and cute freckles, when Morgana runs up to him, panting and eyes wide. 

“What’s wrong?” He rushes out, immediately worried. Morgana looks at him stunned, as if she doesn’t know what to say, and opens and closes her mouth several times before finally finding the words she wants to say.

“You need to see this, Merlin.”

“Can it wait?” He asks timidly, not wanting to leave Florence. 

“No.” Her voice is wavering and he realizes that whatever this is, it must be really damn important so he apologizes to his silver haired friend before allowing Morgana to pull him away.

“Okay, what’s going on?” He snaps. “You’re freaking me out.” 

“I swear I had no idea,” Morgana rushes out. “His name is different and none of this makes any sense.”

“Who? Whose name is different?”

“I had talked to him several times, through letters and emails,” she says, ignoring him as she leads him through the crowd of people. “I never saw him face to face and I only saw his photographs.”

“Who, Morgana?” He all but yells, heart racing and face growing hot.

She doesn’t say anything, but leads him to an empty room where Gwen is standing, looking just as crazed as Morgana. 

“What the hell is going on?” He yells, freaked out now. 

Gwen and Morgana share a look before Gwen hands something over to him. It’s a picture and he doesn’t look at right away. Instead he turns and faces Morgana who gulps and bites her lip in thought.

“I swear I had no idea.” She repeats for the hundredth time. 

Merlin finally tears his eyes away from her and looks down at the picture. 

As soon as he does, he feels his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach. His hands are shaking and he can’t hear anything besides the rush of blood in his ears. The room is spinning, it has to be, because Merlin feels as if he’s about to throw up everywhere.

In the picture is the one person he never thought he’d see ever again. He looks the same, yet so different. His hair is darker, it has to be. He looks more rugged and serious, as if he’s seen things one should never see and judging by the background of the picture, he has. 

Merlin stares at the picture for what seems like hours and his heart has yet to stop pounding against his chest. 

“It’s him.” 

He looks up and sees Morgana and Gwen watching him curiously. 

“It’s him.” He repeats and then he starts laughing. It starts off as regular laughter first and then it becomes more hysterical and before he knows it, he’s on the ground sobbing into Morgana’s arms. He hates himself for crying, but really what was he expecting? The man he’s loved for his entire life, who he’d thought would never come back to him, is suddenly in his hands. Sure, it’s in a photograph, but it’s better than nothing, because he’s holding living proof that Arthur is alive out there somewhere. 

“His name is Damien Thorn.” 

“What?” Merlin asks, half because he wasn’t paying attention and half because who the fuck?

“Damien Thorn,” Morgana repeats. “He doesn’t remember anything from what I can tell. He has no idea who we are.”

The words hit him and suddenly he feels like crying again, but for all the wrong reasons. Everyone had always come back and they had always remembered, it’d be just his luck that when he gets Arthur back that of course, he’d go by a different name and not remember anything.

“Are we even sure it’s him?” Gwen asks, a bit skeptical.

“It’s him.” Merlin says. “I’d know.”

Morgana nods in agreement. “It’s him, Gwen, it really is.”

Gwen still looks a bit skeptical, but after a few moments she nods her head in acceptance. “So how do we got about this?”

“I need to talk to him.” Merlin blurts out and Morgana looks at him wide eyed. “Please, Morgana, you understand. You know.” 

And Morgana’s look lets him know that she does know. When Merlin first saw Morgana again, it was in the midst of the First World War. Morgana was a schoolteacher and it was by sheer luck they ran into each other. At first things had been a bit tense. How do you go about being someone’s friend when you tried to kill them in a previous life?

However, as time went on the two warmed up to each other and soon found themselves closer than ever. Merlin had opened up to Morgana on several occasions and she was the first one he told about his feelings for Arthur. 

She had been understanding and a great shoulder to cry on and Merlin was thankful that he had her. 

But right now she was looking at him a bit wary. 

“Merlin, I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“Why not? Please, I just need to talk to him. Tell him I’m your boss or something and I have a question! Tell him I’m interested in his photographs.” Morgana looked pained and Merlin felt the same way. “I just need to hear his voice.” 

Morgana groaned loudly before throwing her hands up into the air. “Fine! Fucking fine, Merlin! But you can’t tell him who you are or anything like that! Just act like you’re an interested buyer or something. I’ll let him know I’m giving you his number and that you’ll be in touch soon.” 

“How soon? Can I call him tomorrow?” He knows he sounds pathetic and whiney, but he’s just so excited about the fact that this is real. Arthur is really alive and Merlin’s going to hear his voice after all this time. 

“Yes, probably sometime after lunch.” 

Merlin runs up to Morgana and engulfs her in a hug. Gwen stares at them brokenheartedly and Merlin can’t figure out why. 

 

It’s Saturday afternoon, 1:02 PM to be exact, and Merlin is staring at his cellphone while biting at his thumbnail. 

Morgana had texted him Arthur—Damien’s—number a while ago, but Merlin can’t quite pick up the courage to call him. She had assured him that he was expecting Merlin’s phone call and somehow that only made the situation even more nerve-wracking. 

A thousand things could go wrong, but then again they could go right. The only thing Morgana had pounded into his head was to remember that although this was Arthur, _he_ didn’t know that. She prodded the name Damien Thorn into his mind and made sure it was stuck there and it was. 

Damien Thorn. The name itself sounded so dangerous and dark, it left Merlin’s skin crawling, but at the same time it pulled him in in a way that he couldn’t explain. 

With a final sigh and pep talk, Merlin picked up his phone and before he could talk himself out of it, he clicked on the number Morgana had given him and clicked “voice call’”. 

The line started ringing up and he knew it was way too late to back out now. This was really happening and he couldn’t even hear the line ringing now, because his heart was pounding into his ears and all he could focus on was the tapping of his shoes against tile and the fact that he was running out of nail to bite. 

His hand was getting sweaty and he was just about to hang up the phone when a voice rang out. 

“Damien Thorn.” 

Two words. They were just two words, a name, and yet Merlin’s world turned upside down. He felt himself get light headed and he swayed on his feet a bit before regaining composure. 

It was him. He would recognize that voice anywhere; the lazy, yet assertive tone that commanded anyone’s attention, and it had definitely commanded Merlin’s. 

“Hello.” Merlin whispered back, voice cracking, and he immediately hated himself for it. 

“Hi.” The voice, _Damien_ replied, mockingly. “Who’s this?” 

“Uh… sorry. Merlin. Merlin Emrys. I’m a friend of Morgana le Fay’s?” 

“Oh, yes! Nice to hear from you, Mr. Emrys. I was waiting for your call.”

“You were?” Merlin questions, with a small smile playing at his lips. 

“I was.” 

It’s quiet for a second and Merlin doesn’t feel awkward; he feels happy and content, more so than he ever has before in his life. 

“She tells me you’re interested in some of my work?”

“Yes!” He suddenly remembers the staged reason for this call. “She showed me a few of your photographs. They’re a bit dark.” 

Arthu—Damien laughs and Merlin grins too. 

“Yes, I suppose they are, but you must like that if you’re interested in them. Surely you wouldn’t buy something if it didn’t interest you.” The words are playful and Merlin bites his lip. 

“Trust me, I’m definitely interested.” Damien lets out a low laugh at his words and Merlin preens. “Morgana told me you could meet up with me in person? Show me some of your other stuff that wasn’t at the auction.” 

He’s lying. Morgana never told him that and she’d probably kill him if she knew what he was up to, but oh well. This is for the greater good; or well, Merlin’s good, but same thing really. 

“Oh, y-yeah, sure, definitely.” Arthur stumbles over his words, probably a little caught off-guard, which is understandable Merlin guesses. “Where and when are you available?” 

Merlin thinks for a bit before answering. “How about Tuesday afternoon at Blue Ribbon Café? Do you know it?” 

“I do.” 

“Great! Meet me there at around one? It can be a late lunch.” He bites his lip in worry. He knows it sounds like a bit of a date, and maybe he wants it to be, but he doesn’t really know how Damien will take that.

“Tuesday at one, that sounds great, Mr. Emrys.” 

Merlin’s heart swells up and he feels a million times lighter. 

“Awesome.” He replies. “And it’s just Merlin.” 

Damien laughs. “Alright, Just Merlin, see you Tuesday.” 

“See you then, Damien.” 

Damien doesn’t hang up immediately and Merlin will be damned if he hangs up first. The two are quiet for a few moments before Damien lets out a soft laugh and then Merlin hears the line go dead. 

He keeps the phone at his ear for a few seconds before finally pulling it away and setting it back down. He looks out the window of his office and for the first time, he notices the beauty in the city and all it can promise him. For once he’s excited for the day and what’s to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I changed the title. I wasn't really feeling "Worlds Apart" but I like this one better.   
> Okay so a few things!   
> 1\. Yes, I am continuing this story however, updates might not be that frequent. I'll try to do them weekly, but I'm in my last month of college right now so things are getting pretty busy with exams and such, but I'll work on this every free moment I have. :) Come May though, updates will be a lot faster!   
> 2\. It doesn't really show in this chapter, but Damien is going to be a very dark character. He is the Antichrist after all. So in further chapters he will do and say some pretty questionable things and he won't exactly be a good guy, but that's the excitement of it all!   
> 3\. I pretty much know what I want to do with this story but I have two possible plots I can go with, and I'm still trying to decide which one I want to go with, but either way I'm sure you'll enjoy them! 
> 
> anyways, enjoy this next chapter. and thank you for everyone who read the first chapter and commented. <3

To say that Morgana was absolutely fed up with Merlin would be the understatement of the century. 

“For fucks sake, Merlin. I gave you his number so you could talk to him on the phone! I didn’t think you’d make up some lie in order to see him!” 

“Well, what did you expect, honestly?” His face was heated from embarrassment and even Gwen was now looking at him as if he had completely ruined things, which he didn’t understand. 

“Merlin, she’s right. This could go really bad for you.”

“Or it could go really, really good!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Honestly, what could possibly go wrong? We’re just meeting up to talk about art.” 

“That’s the thing, though,” Morgana says, voice softer now and her eyes don’t look so angry anymore. “It’s not just to talk about art. It might be, for him, but it’s not for you.” 

“I don’t get it.” Merlin says, confused.

“This is going to change everything. The moment you see him you’re going to change everything. Merlin, maybe it was fate that none of us have seen him in the hundreds of years we’ve been coming back. Maybe there’s a reason he doesn’t remember who he is or what he’s done.”

“So what? You think fate doesn’t want us together?” 

“I’m just saying, there has to be a reason—“ 

“No, there doesn’t, Morgana! Seriously, what’s your deal? Why don’t you want me to be happy?” His voice breaks a little and he hates it. He’s not about to start crying, he knows that, but he’s a little pissed off. Morgana knows how much this means to him, how much _Arthur_ means to him, so why is she making such a fuss?

“Oh, come off it, Merlin! You know I want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you!” Her eyes are angry again and there’s a snarl on her pretty face and for a minute, Merlin’s thrown back to those dark days in Camelot when the one person he feared the most was his best friend.

“Is it because he’s back?” He asks, completely uncalled for and not meaning it. “Is it because you’re angry that you didn’t really kill him? That your planned failed and I get to have him back while you’re still miserable and alone?” 

“Merlin!” Gwen yells. “What’s wrong with you?” 

He turns to look at her and sees her face completely disgusted and then snaps out of his rage when he realizes what he’s said. 

“Oh, my god.” 

He turns back to look at Morgana and immediately wishes he could go back in time like five minutes. Her face is completely torn up and for the first time in a long time, she has tears falling freely down her face. 

“Morgana…” He whispers out, lifting his hand slowly to reach out to her.

“Don’t!” She hisses, jumping back before he can even place his hand on her. “Don’t touch me.” 

And then she walks out of the apartment and slams the door behind her. 

Merlin’s stuck, frozen, and staring down at his hand. He hadn’t meant the words he had said. In fact, he hadn’t even been aware of them coming from his mouth. That wasn’t what he had wanted to tell Morgana _at all_. He’s really not even sure where those words came from. It was as if for a moment someone else had taken over his body and forced him to say those things. 

“I don’t know what your problem is, Merlin.” Gwen says tightly. “But that was uncalled for, no matter what the situation was.”

“Gwen, I didn’t-“

“One day with Arthur back and look at how you’re acting.” Her voice is sympathetic as if she pities him, but the words anger him in a way he can’t begin to understand and Merlin just rolls his eyes before shaking his head.

“Whatever. I don’t need this.” 

He turned back to walk to his room and made sure to slam the door behind him. He hated what he had said to Morgana yes, and he regretted it and would have to spend weeks, maybe months, trying to make it up to her, but that wasn’t what was bothering him. 

What was bothering him was trying to figure out _why_ he had said any of it. He’d never even thought those types of things about her, and it had hurt him when he’d realized just what exactly he had said. His fingers ached to reach out and grab his cellphone so he could call her, but he knew there was no way in hell she’d ever answer, not this early. 

He also itched to call Damien. He knew it was stupid considering Arthur, or well Damien, didn’t really know him and would probably be against some random “art fan” calling him just to talk, but it was weird. He couldn’t explain how he felt right now. He had always missed Arthur, yes, he had always dreamed of being able to talk to him again and be with him, but now that he had him back and had actually communicated with him, it was like he never wanted to stop. 

It was only Monday evening, but he couldn’t wait until tomorrow to be able to see Damien and be able to talk to him and look at him in person. His heart sped up just thinking about it and it made a lazy smile graze his face. After he saw Damien, everything would be okay again. He just knew it. 

 

Gwen had given him a look of disdain as he left the apartment that morning and he had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at her. He knew she was just worried, especially after he the way he had snapped at Morgana, but really he just wishes everyone could be happy for him. 

The thought crossed his mind that maybe Gwen was jealous, but he shook that away as soon as it had come. Gwen had loved Arthur, yes, she loved him unconditionally, but she also loved Lance. She had been blessed, unlike Merlin, to have a second chance with Lance due to the whole reincarnation thing they couldn’t escape, and she took it. She loved Lance in a way she had never loved Arthur, and she could never love Arthur the way Merlin had loved him. It was impossible. 

He thought about dressing up and then realized how silly that was. This was Arthur, or well kind of Arthur, and despite everything Merlin knew that he didn’t have to try hard. It wasn’t necessary. So in the end he just settled on a pair of jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. Maybe that was why Gwen had given him that look when he left this morning. She’d always hated when he wore dark colors. 

It’s only eleven and he still has some time until he’s supposed to meet up with Damien and he has a vague idea of what he could do to pass the time, but he’s scared. He knows he should head over to Morgana’s and attempt to apologize, but besides Arthur, the one person he’s afraid to lose the most in this world is Morgana. She had always understood him in a way that no one else ever did, not even Gwen, and the thought of him pushing her past a point of forgiveness was something he didn’t want to think about. 

Deep down, he’s aware of the fact that if he doesn’t apologize now then who knows how things will turn out. He gives himself a tiny pep talk before finally taking off in the direction of her apartment and works over what he should say in his head. 

Fifteen minutes pass and he’s finally in front of his best friend’s door and the only thing he’s come up with is “I’m a dick, sorry. I love you, please forgive me.” Somehow he doesn’t think that will work out well for him. 

He knocks on the door twice and rocks himself back and forth on the heels of his feet. He doesn’t hear any shuffling going on inside and Morgana usually answers the door quickly so he feels a spark of fear. She works from home and she’s usually here in the morning and doesn’t leave until at least two or so for any errands she might have. 

“Morgana?” He questions through the door as he knocks a bit louder now. It’s still silent, though and his heart rate picks up a little bit. He rushes to grab his phone from his pocket and dials her number hastily. 

_”You’ve reach Morgana le Fay. Sorry I’ve missed your call, but-“_

He hangs up as it goes straight to voicemail and his heart beat picks up a little bit. “Morgana! You home?” His voice sounds a little bit rushed and he presses his ear against the door, but still nothing. 

“Morgana!” 

The door is yanked from under his weight and he stumbles a little bit as he’s taken off guard. Luckily, fragile yet strong arms grab him and push him upright. 

He looks up and sees Morgana staring at him, not amused and annoyed but there’s a gleam in her eyes. 

“Morgana—“

“Could you be any louder?” She snaps. His face turns red and he looks down in embarrassment. “I guess it’s nice to know that you would care if something happened to me.”

“What?” He exclaims. “Of course I would, Morgana! You know I didn’t mean what I said. It was stupid and I’m the biggest idiot ever—“

“You are,” she says with that tone that makes it seem like she has a million other more important things to be doing. “You’re the biggest asshole ever.”

Merlin’s face falls, but hers lightens up. 

“But you’re my asshole.” 

The words are spoken so softly and full of love that Merlin snorts a bit and gives Morgana a wary smile. “That sounds kind of—“

“Wrong, I know, but whatever. Take it or leave it. I still don’t forgive you, jerk.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, but I’ll take it.” 

She gives him a nod and then opens up the door fully. “Come on, I just made some breakfast.” 

They sit at her bar in the kitchen and Merlin chows down on a bagel while she chews on a piece of bacon. 

“Look, Merlin, I’m sorry about what I said, too.” She whispers. “I shouldn’t have made you feel bad about wanting to see Damien. I know how much he means to you and I’m sure I would have felt the same if it were…”

She trails off but Merlin knows what she was going to say. She would have felt the same if it had been Mordred. Once upon a time, when Morgana and Merlin had been repairing their friendship, she opened up to him about how she’d felt something for the other boy and she hated how towards the end his views on her had changed. Mordred had never come back, like Arthur, so Merlin knew how she felt. However, he didn’t, and couldn’t, really sympathize with her though, because in the end it was Mordred who killed Arthur and he could never forgive the other boy for that. 

Despite that, Merlin simply nods at her words in understanding because he does understand. Morgana swallows hard and shakes her head before giving him a shaky smile. 

“It was shitty of me to bring you down when I know how much this means to you and for that I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. I never should I said what I said to you. I really don’t know what came over me.” He looks down in shame as he thinks about that night again and Morgana reaches out and touches his cheek to turn his face towards her. Her features are soft and while not forgiving, they are open and welcoming. 

“Just don’t let it come over you again.” Her voice is a bit sarcastic and Merlin takes it as a win and leans into her for a hug. She wraps her arms around him and squeezes and he’s thankful that she’s so wonderful, because with the nerves he has right now, he needs his best friend.

“So what time are you meeting him?” She asks once she pulls away. 

“At one.” 

She glances over to her clock on the stove and sees it’s almost twelve. “Want to watch an episode of Parks and Rec? I’ll drive you afterwards.” 

“You had me at ‘Parks and Rec’”. 

Morgana laughs and leads him to the couch where they sit together and she leans into his chest and Merlin can’t help, despite all the butterflies in his stomach, but to feel absolutely content as she turns on the TV and starts up the episode. 

 

Morgana stays true to her promise and does drive him to the little café after their episode is finished. They get there in record timing and Merlin’s heart both speeds up and stops at the fact that in less than ten minutes he’ll be face to face with Damien. 

“Nervous?” Morgana questions as she parks the car. 

Merlin just nods instead of actually saying anything. He shouldn’t be nervous, but he is. He feels like if Damien had remembered who he was, and had gone by the name ‘Arthur’, that perhaps he wouldn’t feel like this. It was almost as if he was meeting someone completely new and that’s what threw him off. 

“Don’t be,” she says. “Despite his name, and what he doesn’t remember, he is still Arthur. Somewhere deep down is that annoying prat that you love so much. It might take him a while to come back to you, but he will. I know it.” 

Her words are soft and comforting and Merlin smiles at her gratefully. “Thanks. That’s kind of what I needed to hear.”

“Well, of course, why else would I say it?” She replies playfully while shoving his shoulder gently. “Now get out of my car before you start to make _me_ nervous!” 

They give each other a hug and Morgana makes him promise that he’ll call once he gets home and the whole thing makes Merlin feel like he’s a schoolboy with a crush going on his first date. 

Of course, he can’t really say that, because this isn’t a date. Who even knows if Damien is gay? Or bi? Does he like guys at all? The thought brings Merlin’s mood down a bit. Arthur had _definitely_ known that he liked guys, Merlin in particular, and that had honestly made things a whole lot easier. However, this wasn’t Camelot and this wasn’t Arthur, not really at least. 

He tries not to let that bring him down. Even if Damien doesn’t like guys that way, he’ll be okay. To even have him in his life at all is the biggest of blessings and Merlin will take him any way he can get him. 

The café is small and homely. There are only about seven little tables inside and the smell of cinnamon and fresh pastries hits him as soon as he walks in. There are only two tables that are currently occupied and one’s by an elderly couple while the other is taken by two girls who look to be in high school. Merlin walks to the back of the café and sits in a table to the far corner. 

“Hello, is it just you today?” 

A woman walks up to him with a smile and a menu and he smiles back before shaking his head. “No, I’m expecting someone.” 

“Oh, alright!” She walks to the cash register and pulls out another menu from the counter and sets both of them down in front of him. “Just let me know when you’re ready.” 

He nods at her, but doesn’t bother to open up his menu. His nerves are acting up so bad right now that he’s not sure he’d even be able to steady his hands in order to read the words correctly. 

He passes the time by tapping his fingers gently along the edge of the table. He taps them from corner to corner, back and forth, and he’s so caught up in watching his fingers tap along the wood that he doesn’t even recognize the sound of heavy boots on the wooden floor walking towards him. 

“Nervous?” 

Merlin jumps up and his fingertips hit the table harshly and he hisses in pain before the words catch up with him and he tilts his head up in amazement. 

The man standing in front of him is so familiar and yet so unfamiliar. His eyes are darker, closed off even, and nothing like how Merlin remembers them. His hair is shorter and darker, which makes him look even more grown up. His frame is somehow more built than Merlin recalls. Where Arthur was bright and lively and full of beauty and life, Damien looks dark and menacing yet beautiful all the same. Merlin used to get a rush of butterflies when he looked at Arthur and a feeling of safety and home. As he looks at Damien, he feels compelled. Compelled to do what, he’s not sure, but it feels like Damien could ask him to do anything he wanted and Merlin would do it, no questions asked. His eyes are alluring and Merlin is in such a trance, he hasn’t even answered the question yet. 

Damien raises an eyebrow at him and Merlin blinks rapidly, mouth slightly open, and shakes his head. 

“N-no. You just took me off-guard, sorry. Would you like to sit?” He gestures to the chair in front of him and Damien just nods before sitting down. 

“How’d you know it was me?” Merlin questions and feels stupid right after the words leave his mouth. Damien just smiles though.

“You mean besides the fact that you’re kind of the only guy sitting here by himself?” Merlin blushes and Damien just smirks. “Morgana showed me a picture of you yesterday so I wouldn’t get mistaken or anything.” 

Merlin smiles to himself at the thought that even while she was upset with him, she still looked out for him. 

The waitress from earlier comes back over and asks if they’re ready. Merlin looks to Damien who just nods his head, obviously a regular here, as he doesn’t look at the menu either. 

Merlin orders a cup of hot apple cinnamon tea and a plain turkey and ham sandwich. Damien orders some kind of blackberry tea and soup and before he knows it the waitress is gone, leaving them alone again. 

“So you like my work?” Damien questions, breaking the silence, and of course, that’s why they’re here after all. 

“I do. Like I said, it’s different.” 

“You don’t seem like the type to be interested in war or such dark things.” Damien says as he tilts his head. 

“I don’t?” 

“No.” 

Well, he’s not wrong, Merlin thinks to himself. He’d always hated war and the idea behind it. He just hated the thought of people dying; it was something that never settled with him. He’d lived through enough wars and seen enough people die that he couldn’t even watch a simple war movie anymore without being bothered by it. 

“You’re right.” He finds himself saying as he stares into Damien’s eyes. “I don’t like war, but I like your pictures.” 

Merlin automatically wants to hit himself as the words leave his mouth. Why the hell would he say that? He bites at his lip, thinking he’s officially messed everything up, because there’s no way Damien won’t be offended by that statement. However, instead of looking put off, Damien simply smiles and nods his head. 

“That’s nice. I appreciate your honesty.” 

The waitress arrives with their food and tea before Merlin can respond and Damien is very polite in telling her thank you, while Merlin just sits there quietly. 

They both pour their tea into their cups and Merlin looks down at his sandwich, not feeling all that hungry. The same isn’t true for Damien, though, as he stirs his soup and blows on it a bit before tasting it. It’s such a cute and almost childlike move that it makes Merlin think of Arthur and how he used to make him blow on his food if he deemed it too hot. 

“So, I brought along some of my other works like you wanted.” Damien says. Merlin’s confused for a moment before he remembers that ridiculous excuse he made up to see him. “They’re just proofs, but if you like any of them enough, we can work out the details later.” 

“Can I see them now?” he asks, nervous yet excited. 

“Of course.” Damien leans to the side and grabs a leather briefcase that looks way too expensive and opens it, withdrawing a folder. “Here, feel free to look through it.”

Merlin takes it and says thank you, before pushing his plate of food away from him while Damien continues to eat. His hands are a bit shaky as he prepares himself for opening the folder. He honestly doesn’t understand why he’s so scared, or worried, but he is. With a deep breath he opens up the folder and pulls out a stack of pictures. 

He places them down on the table and begins to look through all of them. He knows that Damien is a war photographer, so he knows to expect some pretty gruesome pictures, but he still wasn’t entirely prepared for this. These pictures are literally _right in the heart of the war_. It makes Merlin’s heart churn as he flips through them. How close does Damien have to be to get these shots? It’s like he’s in the war himself. Surely this can’t be safe? If the situation was different, if Damien had remembered him, Merlin already knows that he’d be tearing him a new one. How reckless was this man in front of him? 

“These are…very up close.” He says, warily, and winces a bit as he hears his voice. He sounds disapproving and that’s not something he wanted to exhibit. 

“They are.” Damien says, sounding as if it’s not big deal. “I’m the only one who ever gets that close.”

“Isn’t that dangerous, though?” 

“Very.” Damien’s eyes flicker and he sips at his tea. 

“So why do you do it?” 

“Because it’s my job. Why do something if you’re not going to give it a hundred percent? I’m a war photographer; it’s a dangerous job, and I’m not trying to sugarcoat any of it. I’m showing people exactly what it is.” 

The words bother Merlin in a way he can’t describe. It’s great that Damien’s that committed to something he loves so much, but still. He can’t get over just how hazardous the entire thing is. He chooses not to say anything, though, so he doesn’t upset Damien and instead he just nods his head. 

He goes silent once again as he continues to flip through the pictures. His eyes finally come across one that catches his attention, and not because of all the destruction and fear radiating off them. In the picture, Damien’s being led away from the action of the war by a soldier, yet even as he’s being pulled away he’s still facing the opposite direction as he holds his camera up, trying to capture a moment that Merlin cannot see. He looks so focused and determined that Merlin has a feeling he probably yanked his arm out of the soldier’s grasp to run back into the action. 

He’s probably been staring at the picture for a while, because under the table Damien nudges him with his foot to get his attention. “See one you like?” There’s a lazy smile on his face and Merlin nods as he picks up the picture. 

Damien chuckles. “That one isn’t even of the war. It’s of me.” 

“I know.” That’s also a reason why Merlin likes it so much. Damien looks handsome in a devilish way and it’s the most intriguing thing. 

“Alright, then. Any others?” 

He looks through the pictures again and does see another he likes. It’s not really of the action of the war. It’s of a solider helping a young boy and girl who can’t be more than six years of age. It’s a great picture with an even better message and Merlin holds it up. 

“This one.” 

Damien studies the picture and nods his head. “Alright then, Mr. Emrys.” 

“I told you it was just Merlin.” He grumbles under his breath. 

Damien just laughs and takes ahold of the folder as Merlin hands in back to him. “You didn’t eat.” He points out, taking a look at Merlin’s food.

“Oh. No, I suppose I didn’t.”

“Big breakfast?”

“You could say that.” He says, as he picks up his sandwich and takes a small bite. Looking over at Damien’s plate, he realizes the other is already finished and suddenly he feels bad for holding him up. “I’m sorry if I’m keeping you.”

“You aren’t. I already left the office and I mainly just work from home. Take your time.” The words warm Merlin and he smiles in appreciation. 

“So if you don’t like war, why the sudden interest in war photography?”

Merlin isn’t quite sure how to answer the question and it’s not like he can come right out with the truth, so he thinks it over for a few seconds before deciding on his answer.

“I was at a showcase for Morgana and some of your stuff came up.” 

“Did it?” He questions with an odd look as he tilts his head to the side. “I don’t remember any of my stuff being on display.” 

“I, uh,” Merlin can feel his face heating up at being caught in his lie. “It wasn’t up for display. She brought up your name and I don’t know, it just sounded interesting.” 

Damien just nods his head, but doesn’t look very convinced. “And did I live up to your expectations?” 

_Yes,_ Merlin thinks, _you’re everything I wanted you to be._ Sure Damien is a strong contrast from Arthur, but Merlin can’t help but to be fascinated by him in a way that he never was by Arthur; in a different yet stronger way.

“You did. I’m leaving with two new photographs after all.” 

“Not yet,” Damien says with a laugh. “They’re just proofs, remember? I can give you the real things by Saturday, though.” 

“Oh, okay. That’s good. Would we meet up again?”

“Sure.” Damien agrees easily. “I could text you my address and we could meet at my place. It’d be easier and faster.” 

Merlin’s heart stutters a bit before the words fully register to his ears. Damien’s place? He can’t help but get a little excited at the words, before having to force himself to calm down. It’s just for pictures; he has to remind himself several times. 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He’s surprised his voice actually came out steady instead of the shaky mess he was expecting. 

“It’ll give me some time to clean up. The place is a bit of a mess.” 

The words send a feeling of nostalgia through him. Arthur had always been a bit messy, leaving Merlin to clean up his messes, and it was a bit nice to see that Damien was the exact same way. 

“Well, it was wonderful to meet you, Merlin.” Damien says as he rises from his seat. It wasn’t until then that Merlin noticed he had finished all his food so there was really nothing keeping them here. “I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.” 

Merlin smiles and rises to his feet as well as he shakes Damien’s extended hand. “Of course. Thank you for meeting up with me. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Damien grabs a few bills from his wallet and throws them down on the table. Merlin notices that it’s more than enough to cover the food and a good tip and he immediately feels guilty. 

“Oh, let me pay for it or at least split it. I’m the one who suggested this place.” 

Damien just holds out a hand and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Merlin. You’ll be the paying customer on Saturday anyways.”

He decides to let it go and allows Damien to lead him out of the café. 

“Where are you parked?” 

“Um, I’m not. Morgana dropped me off.” Damien raises an eyebrow at his words and Merlin rushes the next sentence out. “It’s fine. I only live a couple of blocks away.” 

“You sure? I could always give you a ride, it’s not a problem for me.”

Oh god. Merlin wants a ride, does he ever. Not because he can’t walk or anything, but because being in a tight space with Damien sounds kind of amazing, but at the same time a tight space with Damien sounds dangerous. He’s not sure why, but he feels like that would lead him into spilling out something he shouldn’t and he really can’t risk that right now.

“Thank you, but it’s okay.” He finally says. “I enjoy walking.” 

Damien just gives him a funny look before nodding and accepting his answer. “Alright, well I’ll send you my address and let you know what a good time will be for Saturday.”

Merlin just nods. 

“Goodbye, Merlin. Have a nice rest of your week.” 

“You too, Damien.” He whispers out feeling both torn that their time together is over for now and relieved that it is, oddly. 

He watches Damien walk away and lets out a sigh once the other man gets in his car and drives away. He expected to feel elated after the meeting but instead he just feels really empty. The fact that Damien was so close to him yet Arthur had never been further away hurt. He hated that he had him right in his sights, but not how he had always imagined. He’d always thought that when they met up again they’d run into each other’s arms like some cheesy romance movie, and they’d live happily ever after, but the feeling he had right now let him know that wasn’t going to happen. 

At least not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did ya'll like it?   
> leave a comment if you did! i love reading them. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any mistakes, I'll edit it later but I really just wanted to get this out to ya'll. :)  
> please read the end notes! and enjoy!

He hated Fridays. 

It was weird, and Merlin knew that, but it’s just how it was. While all his friends were excited about having a weekend to themselves to do whatever great things they needed to get done (which usually just consisted of them getting drunk or watching TV shows), he didn’t share their excitement. 

Merlin loved his job. Sure, it wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs considering he was just a secretary for an elementary school, but he loved it. He was well aware of the fact that he’d never quite have children of his own, but he enjoyed working around the hundreds of kids at the school. They were always so vivacious and full of life and working in the front office meant that he saw a lot of them frequently. He got to know each and every student that came into the office, whether to see the nurse or because they were in trouble, and he had a soft spot for all of them. It goes without saying that his days were never boring and there was always something going on to keep him occupied and interested. Which was why he hated Fridays. He hated having to leave the campus at four in the afternoon, to go home and just sit around. He had Gwen, he knew that, but these days she was at Lance’s more often than she was at their apartment. Merlin didn’t blame her, though. He was happy for her and he loved the fact that she was able to be with Lance this time around, but still. He got lonely sometimes. 

This Friday was different, however. For the first time in years—centuries—as Merlin left his job to start his weekend, he didn’t feel that loneliness in his chest like he usually did. Instead he felt a sense of excitement and a rush at wanting the day to hurry up and finish so that it could be Saturday already.

Because Saturday meant Damien. 

They hadn’t talked at all since the lunch when they first met up and even though he was aching to reach out to him, Merlin knew better. 

Morgana had been a great listener as Merlin had filled her in on what happened during their lunch and she even thought that it was a good sign. She had told Merlin that from what she knew and heard around her work, that Damien wasn’t really an open person or easy to get along with. She wasn’t shocked that the rule obviously didn’t apply to Merlin though, because honestly? They’re Arthur and Merlin; you can’t have one without the other. 

However, when Merlin had told her that he wanted to call Arthur the next day, she stopped him claiming that he should wait a little longer as to not scare Arthur away. At the time it had made a lot of sense, but now Merlin was wondering how he was able to even last this long. 

He was completely aware of the fact that he had basically been without Arthur for centuries but after having him in his life again for a few moments, he found it nearly impossible to even think of himself without the other man.

 

He had barely gotten to his apartment and taken off his shoes when his phone buzzed in his pocket alerting him of a text message. When he pulled it out and read it to himself, he couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto his face. It was just a simple text from Damien, letting him know what time to arrive tomorrow with his address added at the end, but still. He felt like a teenage boy who had just gotten a smile from his childhood crush. 

He sent back a little thumb up emoji and cackled to himself when Damien replied back with the money eyes emoji. Apparently he had been a little loud because Gwen stomped into the kitchen with a glare on her face.

“Honestly, Merlin, you’ve just gotten here and already you’re being loud.” 

“Why aren’t you at work?” 

“I had a fever,” Gwen said, slyly and even fake coughed into her hand. “I’m sick.” 

“Uh huh. Sure you are, Karen Smith. Really, what’s up?” 

Gwen just snorted. “Well, Lance is sick so I stayed at his place last night to take care of him and I didn’t get home ‘till this morning, and I was just so exhausted so I took the day off.” 

Looking at her now, Gwen did look really tired and it made Merlin feel a bit bad for having woken her up. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be loud.”

“It’s fine,” she waved him off. “I’ve been sleeping all day anyways. So how was the school today?”

She stumbled over to the bar in the kitchen and placed her head in her hands as Merlin danced around the kitchen, making them some coffee, and listened to his wild story about a kid who decided he wanted to try and run away from the school today. 

“Aw, poor boy.” Gwen pouted as she sipped her coffee. “He was probably just having a bad day.”

“Yeah, but it was fine. I talked to him and calmed him down and he went back to class.”

Gwen gave him a sad look and Merlin blushed, already knowing what was going to come.

“You’re so good with kids, Merlin. Why don’t you—“

“You know why, Gwen.” He said, a tad bit sharp. 

They had this conversation all the time and it was really starting to take its toll on him. ‘Oh, Merlin. Why don’t you have kids? You could always just meet a really nice girl or even adopt.’ Only it wasn’t that simply at all. While Merlin wasn’t completely turned off by girls (he had dated Freya and there had been the Drunken Mistake of ’10 with Morgana that no one ever talked about), he was typically turned off by people who weren’t Arthur Pendragon or Arthur Pendragon reincarnated. He knew that Gwen didn’t really see eye to eye with him on the whole Arthur/Damien thing, so he knew she wouldn’t really understand his point of view.

Sure enough, she simply tsked in reply. 

“Gwen, look, I know you don’t approve of everything going on with Damien, but—“

“That’s the whole point, Merlin.” She said softly, obviously not trying to upset him. “It’s the fact that this isn’t even Arthur, not really at least. I mean, don’t you think it’s a bit odd that out of all of us who have come back, he doesn’t remember anything or anyone? We all remembered, so why doesn’t he?” 

“I don’t know, Gwen.” And he didn’t. The question had bugged him too and had been biting at the back of his mind. It was weird and a bit sketchy that Damien didn’t remember anything, but that didn’t change anything. Merlin could help him remember. “But he _is_ Arthur. Despite the fact that he doesn’t remember or that he goes by a different name, he is still the same.”

“Is he?”

“Yes!” Merlin bit out. “Maybe you just need to talk to him yourself then you would understand.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “I know I’m being a bit of a downer, but it’s just that… I know how much this means to you—how much _he_ means to you and I don’t want your expectations of this to be shot down.” 

Merlin smiled and walked over to Gwen’s pouting face and embraced her tightly in a hug. “I know you’re just looking out for me and I thank you for that. You’re really too good for me.”

“Well, duh.” She joked as she wrapped her arms around him. “But you’re right. Maybe I do need to talk to him. It’s a bit unfair that you and Morgana are hogging him up. He was my husband after all.” 

Merlin yanked himself away from Gwen and gave her a wary look before calming down after she erupted into a loud laughter. 

“Oh, my god! Your face!” 

“It’s not funny.” He grumbled.

“It totally is! You know, technically there was never a divorce…”

“Gwen!” Merlin groaned, throwing himself facedown onto the couch in their living room, deciding he’s had enough.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” There was a pressure on his legs and he turned his head to see Gwen straddling them with a serious look. “Really, though. I do want to meet him, just to see what he’s like now.”

“He’s pretty much the same. He’s a bit more serious though and looks so haunted.”

“Haunted?”

“Yeah,” he whispered out. “I don’t know how to explain it, but he just looks so guarded, you know?”

Gwen nodded. “Well, you don’t know his life, Merlin. Who knows what he’s gone through so far.”

 

“Right…” he trailed off. “I just have to play my cards right and make him a friend. He doesn’t seem to trustworthy of people.”

“Understandable, but I’m sure you’ll be the exception. You always were.” 

Merlin looked at Gwen’s face and found a gentle smile gracing her features and suddenly it was like he was being hit with a thousand memories all at once. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “I was, wasn’t I?” 

“Mhm. So when are you meeting him again?”

“Tomorrow. I purchased some paintings from him so I’m going to pick them up from him.”

“At his place?” Merlin nodded. “Wow, how lovely. You’ll be all alone…”

“Gwen,” he warned, although a smile was threatening to show. 

“In his flat…”

“Gwen.”

“Who knows what could happen?” She winked at him and he cackled loudly before bucking her off his legs and sending her onto the floor. 

“Hush you! I do know what will happen. We’re going to do a business transaction, that’s all.”

“Sure, yeah. I think I might go over to Lance’s while you’re there for a business transaction of my own.”

“Gwen!” He groaned before snorting with laughter. “You’re so crude! Remember when you used to be so shy and quiet?”

“What can I say? The twenty-first century changed me.” 

“That it has, my friend, that it has.” 

They laughed a bit more over how naïve and shy they all used to be and then they laughed at how far they had all come, and all in all it was just the nice night in Merlin needed to calm his nerves. 

 

Somehow meeting Damien a second time was a hell of a lot more stressful than the first time. It was probably due to the fact that in a way, Gwen was right. It was a lot more personal going to his place and who knows what could happen.

Logically and realistically, Merlin knew that nothing spectacular would happen. He would give Damien the money; Damien would give him the pictures and then send him on his merry way. 

Merlin was trying to think of any and every way to prolong this meeting and somehow sneak in a reason for them to see each other again. He knew there was a huge risk of him sounding like a complete creep, but he was hoping that Gwen’s words would ring true. Merlin had always been the exception with Arthur and now he could only hope that it would be the same with Damien.

The more he thought about it, though the more he thought he should just wing it. There really wasn’t a way he could make himself look like anymore of creep considering he had been standing outside of the door to Damien’s studio for the past ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door. 

“Come on,” he whispered to himself. “You can do this. You’ve practically known the git your whole life.” _You’ve been waiting your whole life to be alone with him and to have him back, so hurry up and knoc--!_

He thrust his hand out and pounded on the door, heart beating in his ears and knees shaking. He waited a few seconds and just when he was about to raise his hand to knock again, the door opened and he was met with a beautiful, dark skinned girl who wore a frown that made her look as intimidating as Morgana. His heart dropped upon seeing the gorgeous girl. Was she Damien’s girlfriend? Oh god, was Damien _married_?

“Who the hell are you?”

And Merlin had never wanted to evaporate more in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So I know it's been a while and I'm so sorry, but I had a huge death in the family and didn't feel much like writing and then when I started again I didn't like anything I came up with. However, I have finally gotten everything together and found a path I like. :) this was short, but I really just wanted to get it out to ya'll since it's been so long.
> 
> Also, I just wanted to say that although Damien (and this story) will have their darker moments, I do want him to have his funny/humorous/good/etc. parts to him as well since he technically _is_ still Arthur in this. :)  
>  I hope you guys enjoyed this little short piece and the next chapter will be up soon! thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's it!  
> I'm not sure if I should continue this one and make it a chaptered fic. Maybe if anyone's interested in that I could, but for now this it it. I hope ya'll liked it. <3


End file.
